


Four (Is the Loneliest Number)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over. Everything is how it should be. Except it's not. Because now Hermione is trapped, buried under a numbness and a sadness that won't be abated. And the one thing that seems to help is the one thing that only makes her feel worse. Set right after Deathly Hallows. A slight inference of dub consent and some swearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four (Is the Loneliest Number)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulJelly/gifts).



> SoulJelly, this is so not the story I meant to write for you, but it was what was demanding to be written. And since you were cool with any pairing, I took you at your word and tried to not limit myself to just one. I hope you like it!

Katie was the first one.

It was the night that Voldemort fell, a night full of so much emotion that it felt like it was just bursting out of people, to no fault of their own. Hermione had gone from crying to celebrating to crying to laughing to crying again in a span of just moments.

Knowing Fred was dead. Knowing Tonks and Remus were dead. Knowing Dobby, Colin, Snape, other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who she’d grown up with were all dead. All of them now lost forever.

Knowing a baby was going to grow up without his parents. Knowing families were going to have to spend the next few days burying the dead. 

Seeing Hogwarts in shambles. Wondering if she could find her parents, if she could restore their memories.

It was too much. Too much relief — that after all these years, it was finally over. That after all the pain, they had finally come out on the other side — and too much sorrow.

All she could do was lie facedown on the bed in her dorm as her body wracked with sobs she couldn’t control.

And then, out of nowhere, fingers were stroking her hair, and when she turned her head, wide brown eyes were staring at her. Concern and pain and relief and sorrow all mixed together on Katie’s face.

Neither girl said a word, but somehow Hermione knew what Katie was offering, and she also knew that she needed it.

She waited till Katie leaned in and then met her halfway. Lips meeting, soft and gentle but quickly turning rough and intense. Tears mingled with saliva, but Hermione didn’t care. She didn’t think Katie did either.

Robes fell to the floor, knickers were pushed to the side. Hermione pulled at Katie’s hair, Katie nipped at Hermione’s flesh, Hermione bit down on Katie’s lip, Katie pinched Hermione’s nipples.

A quiet battle for control — over each other, over the pain, over the emotions of the night.

Until Katie slid two fingers into Hermione and sucked her clit into her mouth, and Hermione surrendered, arching her back and wriggling her hips and urging the other girl to go faster, to please go faster, to please please go faster and harder and make her forget.

And then Katie complied, and Hermione shattered under her, an explosion of bliss and tears and screams that ended as quickly as it came and left Hermione numb.

Katie dressed and slipped out of the room, leaving Hermione naked on her bed, except for her knickers now bunched at her knees. Her thighs were coated with cum, her nipples hard and pointed in the cold air.

Hermione couldn’t even bring herself to care. She just cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Harry found her like that. She didn’t even ask how he was able to enter the girls’ dormitory. She just let him clean her up and get her dressed and walk her downstairs.

He promised not to tell Ron. 

Katie was nowhere to be seen, but it didn’t matter. Hermione knew they would never speak of it again.

•••

Ginny was the second one.

It was two weeks after the war had ended. Nothing was any better, even though every part of Hermione’s mind was screaming that it should be. She should be smiling, she should be laughing, she should be celebrating along with the others that their world was free, that the darkness had been lifted.

But she couldn’t. She just felt numb, all the time.

She’d found her parents, had seen their new life, had seen how happy they looked. She watched them from across the street as they dined together, laughing and whispering, and her heart ached.

She wanted to point her wand at them, whisper the words, change them back. But instead she had just turned around and Apparated back to The Burrow.

Only to find Ron waiting for her.

It’s not you, he said. It’s me, he said. I’m not ready for a relationship, he said. I need time, he said. I want to be with you but I’m just not sure what I feel for you is real, he said.

She shoved him. She couldn’t help it. She shoved him hard, knocked him down. And then she fled to Ginny’s room, throwing herself on to the extra bed, sobbing into the down comforters. 

There was nowhere else for her to go.

Hours later, she felt fingers stroking her damp hair, wiping tears off her cheeks.

Hermione looked up.

“Boys are arses,” Ginny said. “My brother is the biggest arse in the world, and he is going to regret this.”

Hermione nodded numbly. Images raced through her mind — not of Ron, but of Katie, of fingers inside her and breasts pressed against her.

She leaned forward, placed her lips on Ginny’s.

Ginny started and pulled back, staring at Hermione as though she was looking at a stranger. 

She probably was. But Hermione didn’t care. The pain — it was too much. She needed a release.

So Hermione leaned forward again, but this time, Ginny met her full on, sucking Hermione’s bottom lip into her mouth and shoving Hermione back against the pillows.

Ginny was quick, as though she knew what Hermione needed. She didn’t hesitate or bother with niceties; she just shoved Hermione’s robes up to her waist, unhooked Hermione’s pants and pulled her pants and her knickers down her legs and off her feet in a swift motion.

Then her small, cool hands were pushing Hermione’s legs apart, lifting them over her shoulders.

She did all the work with her hand, using the tips of her fingers to caress slowly and softly until Hermione was whimpering, then using more pressure, rubbing hard and fast, until Hermione was aching and dripping with need. Hermione moaned in agony, rocking herself against Ginny’s hand.

And then two fingers were inside her and Hermione gasped, arching her back.

Ginny’s thrusts were hard and deep and fast, and Hermione scrunched her eyes together and begged her friend to keep going.

Hermione could feel tears begin to well behind her closed eyelids, and it only made her more anxious, her body bouncing unsteadily on the bed.

She was so close, but the pain was too much. It was on top of her, suffocating her, giving her no way out.

She opened her mouth and a sob escaped. Then another. 

Hermione couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t look at Ginny, but it didn’t matter. Ginny added a third finger and then finally used her mouth, lowering it on to Hermione’s clit and finally Hermione could forget the world, succumbing to her orgasm and then to sleep.

Hermione woke hours later, the room dark. An old wooly blanket was covering her naked body.

She turned her head to the side, barely able to make out a silhouette in the bed beside her.

“Ginny?” she whispered. Her voice came out hoarse, cracked, like she hadn’t used it in years.

“Shhh,” Ginny said, “Go back to sleep.”

They never talked about it again.

•••

Luna was the third, and the most gentle.

It was the night before Hermione returned to Hogwarts for her delayed Seventh Year. She was going alone, which was probably for the better. Ron, Harry, Neville and Luna — they were done with education, done with the safety of Hogwarts. They were ready to experience the world.

But Hermione was tired of the world. She just wanted to hide away and make the pain stop. Education had always been her salvation. Now it was her only hope.

She had left the Weasleys’ the morning after she and Ginny had sex. She couldn’t stay there anymore, not with Ron and not with Ginny. Not even with Harry, who hadn’t looked at her the same since he found her the night after Katie.

She had shown up to the Lovegoods’ with a bag in her hands and tears dripping down her cheeks and Luna had invited her in and offered her a bed to sleep on for the next couple months.

Luna was a great friend. She didn’t ask questions and she didn’t offer looks of pity. Instead, she just stayed by Hermione’s side in case Hermione needed her. They took walks together and sat side-by-side and read books. Luna even taught her how to cook a little.

The night before Hermione had to leave for Hogwarts, they both fell asleep in Luna’s bed, the book Hermione had been reading and The Quibbler Luna had been reading both dropping to the floor sometime soon after. But somewhere in the middle of the night, Hermione woke.

The pain, which she’d thought was getting better, was back, suffocating her and choking her in the darkness. She couldn’t help it. She cried out, as sobs seemed to explode from her body, leaving her helpless and numb.

Instantly, Luna was awake, her arms around Hermione, pulling Hermione close, holding her, rocking her.

“Make it go away,” Hermione heard herself sob. “Please make it go away.”

Luna didn’t ask questions. It was like she instinctively knew what Hermione meant, and without a word, she reached for the hem of Hermione’s nightdress and pulled it up and over her head. Then Luna leaned in, taking one of Hermione’s small breasts into her mouth, sucking on it and using her hands to caress Hermione’s hips at the same time.

Luna pushed Hermione back on the pillow and began to move down her body, trailing kisses all over Hermione’s flesh — her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, her belly button. 

Finally, Luna reached the edge of Hermione’s knickers. She slipped a finger underneath and gave her a stroke, causing Hermione to shudder, even as tears continued to pour unabated from her eyes.

Luna pulled Hermione’s knickers down her legs, moving slowly and gently, nipping at Hermione’s flesh as she went, causing goosepimples to appear where her lips had been.

Unlike the other girls, Luna used her mouth to finish Hermione off. She ran the plane of her tongue between Hermione’s legs, sucked Hermione’s clit into her mouth and then finally pushed her tongue in as deep as she could, thrusting and licking and twirling.

It was exactly what Hermione needed. She closed her eyes and let the pleasure wash away the pain. By the time dawn arrived, Luna had made Hermione come seven times and Hermione had returned the favor three.

Hermione could barely keep her eyes open as she dressed in her robes, her body aching in all the right ways.

“I’ll miss you,” Luna said, and threw her arms around Hermione.

“I’ll miss you too,” Hermione said, but as she Apparated away, the sated feeling of the night before was instantly replaced by that horrible numbness, and she knew what happened between her and Luna would never happen again.

•••

Pansy was the fourth, and the worst. 

It was two weeks into term and Hermione was desperate. She’d thought that school would take away the pain, that having books to read and essays to write would make it all better. But it was only getting worse. Being back at Hogwarts, seeing visions of Fred and Remus and Colin everywhere she went, just made the pain, when it flared, that much more unbearable, and when it didn’t flare, the numbness was even worse.

She couldn’t go on like this, but she had heard a rumor that Pansy Parkinson had a potion that could help. So Hermione cornered her in the first floor bathroom one day after Transfiguration.

“I need your help,” she told Pansy. 

Pansy smirked. “It will cost you.”

“Please,” Hermione said. “I don’t have money to pay you.” 

It was true. Without her parents around and not having been in any condition to work over the summer, Hermione had used up all her savings on school supplies. But she _needed_ this potion.

“I don’t give out freebies, Granger,” Pansy said.

“Can’t you make an exception?”

“For you?” Pansy scoffed. “No.” She paused. “But I can accept other payment.”

Through her numbness, Hermione felt a stirring of unease.

“What are you talking about?”

Pansy looked her up and down. “I heard you like girls now,” she said. “I want to try you.”

Hermione felt her cheeks burn. “What are you talking about?” she said, but her voice came out weak, meek.

Pansy merely smiled. Hermione felt tears spring to her eyes.

“How do you know?” Hermione whispered desperately, but Pansy only laughed. Maybe it was better. Hermione wasn’t sure she wanted to know which girl had betrayed her.

“Do we have a deal?” Pansy said.

Hermione closed her eyes, clenched her fists, dug her fingernails into her own palms. She wanted so desperately to say no, to say she hadn’t sunk low enough to give herself to a girl who would mock and torture her without a second thought. But again, Hermione knew the truth. 

She _needed_ this potion.

“Where?” Hermione heard herself whispering, and Pansy’s smile grew.

“Tonight,” Pansy said. “Half past twelve. On the Quidditch field. I’ve been wanting to do it under the stars.”

Hermione nodded. “Fine,” she said.

“Good.” Pansy headed to the door, but turned back before she reached it. “Oh, and Granger? You better be naked when I get there.”

•••

For the rest of the day, Hermione debated with herself. 

“This isn’t who I am,” she told herself, but the piles of homework that sat untouched and the pockets of her robes that were stuffed with used tissues told her differently, so at the stroke of midnight, she found herself slipping out of the Gryffindor Common Room and tiptoeing through the halls of Howarts and out onto the lawn.

The night was cold, the grass of the Quidditch pitch wet, the moon just a faint crescent in the sky.

No one would be able to see them out here, but still, Hermione couldn’t help but tremble. She didn’t let nerves stop her though. She slipped out of her robe — for efficiency sake, she wore nothing underneath it — and stood stark naked in the middle of the pitch, waiting.

Pansy arrived on time. Hermione breathed in a soft sigh when she saw her. 

Pansy smirked at that. “What?” she said. “You thought I wouldn’t show? Or maybe that I was tricking you somehow? Going to send the whole Slytherin Common Room out here to see you in all your glory?”

Hermione blushed but didn’t answer. She was glad it was dark.

Pansy laughed. “Don’t worry, Granger,” she said. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

And with that, she pointed her wand between Hermione’s legs and uttered the incantation to a lubrication spell.

Pansy was good. She was fast, but she was skilled. She moved toward Hermione and pushed her face-first onto the damp grass, then bound her in place with her arms above her head. Hermione felt Pansy run her hands all over her body — down her back, underneath her to grasp her breasts, back around to feel her whole arse, even running her fingers between her arse cheeks, and eventually moving her fingers underneath her once more, this time to rub against her clit. 

Hermione couldn’t help it. As much as she tried to resist, her body bucked against Pansy’s hand and a groan escaped her throat.

Pansy laughed, her voice surprisingly delicate in the night air, but she finally moved her hand to where Hermione ached for it to be, pushing her fingers deep inside her.

Hermione had never been fucked as hard as Pansy fucked her. She screamed into the night air as her body convulsed around Pansy’s fingers. Then Pansy flipped her over and used her tongue and her wand to fuck her again.

Finally, Pansy lowered herself over Hermione’s face, ordering Hermione to get her off.

When Pansy had finished, she climbed off Hermione, cleaned herself off and dropped her robes back into place. Hermione still lay bound on the wet grass.

“The potion?” Hermione asked her.

Pansy reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial of glittering blue liquid. She walked over to Hermione’s robe, crumpled on the ground a few yards away, and slipped it into one of the pockets. Then she tucked the robe under her arm.

Pansy turned back to Hermione, pointed her wand at the naked girl and uttered another incantation that Hermione couldn’t hear. Then she turned as if to walk away.

Desperation quickly overwhelmed Hermione. She screamed out.

“Pansy!” 

Pansy turned back.

“You told me I could have the potion!”

“And I always keep my word, Granger. Your robe, and the potion, will be waiting for you outside the Gryffindor Common Room.”

“But …” Hermione stopped, realization washing over her. “You’re going to leave me here?”

Pansy smirked. “Don’t worry,” she said. “The binding spell will wear off in a couple of hours and then you are free to head back.”

Hermione stared at her. She could feel the tears threatening. 

“You’re going to make me walk back to the castle naked?”

Pansy shrugged. “You’re the one who chose not to wear other clothes.”

And then she turned, the black night quickly swallowing her up.

Hermione burst into tears, frustration and anger and humiliation welling up in her. She hated Katie for fucking her and leaving her. She hated Ginny for fucking her and not caring enough. She hated Luna for fucking her and pretending to care too much. And she hated Pansy for fucking her and leaving her lying naked in the middle of the Quidditch pitch with an ache between her legs and a burning flame of desire in the pit of her stomach.

She found Pansy the next day, cornered her once again in the first floor bathroom.

“You made it back, I see,” she said.

“Yes,” Hermione growled. “No thanks to you.”

Pansy shrugged. “You’re a smart girl. I knew you wouldn’t get caught.”

“I hate you,” Hermione hissed, her eyes shooting daggers at the other girl.

Pansy seemed unfazed.

“So tonight then?” she said. 

“Fuck you,” Hermione said. 

“Same place?”

“Yes.”


End file.
